"Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your natural children, Sir? Answer me that. He loved you. Lucy’s cool. “Think of what people will say!” That became a refrain. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. He recognized me at once, and he behaved like a madman.
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